


Golden Pastures

by Chngminxo



Series: Fields of Gold [1]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: AU, Angst, Drama, Fluff, M/M, farm!au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:56:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chngminxo/pseuds/Chngminxo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was the start of Summer when the Farm Boy met the Pastor's Son, and their love shone like gold dust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wild

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story I have been working on for the past two months and I am so excited to finally be able to post the first part!
> 
> I have written this story in its entirety, and from the way I have it set out right now, it looks as though it will be 6 chapters, and an Epilogue. That could possibly change as I edit each chapter individually and possibly shift a couple of things around! The chapters will be posted maybe twice a week.
> 
> The crop that is being farmed on the property is Rapeseed/Canola (Canola is a genetically modified version of Rapeseed that is grown more often these days, I chose to use the word Canola, but they are basically the same thing. Canola is farmed to be pressed for its oil, which is used in cooking and is an ingredient in some dairy-alternative products.) During the summer months, Rapeseed and Canola both have golden yellow flowers, which makes them absolutely stunning to look at, and it makes entire fields of Gold.
> 
> Part of this was inspired because I am half Australian and half Finnish and I have many childhood memories of finding Canola fields so absolutely stunning. In Australia I often saw them during summer driving holidays, but in Finland, my aunt's home used to back onto a wide field of Canola that sat between her cottage and the forest on the other side, and that is more what inspired the visuals of this. 
> 
> Here is a visual reference - a Canola/Rapeseed field in China that is flowering around small mountains: http://www.wherecoolthingshappen.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/canolafields02-640x358.png
> 
> I have purposefully decided to not specify the time/place where this is set. Even though the 'island' does bare similarities to Jeju-do, it is not strictly there. The style of Parish in which this is set is inspired by the parishes in England and Western Europe from the 17th century to the present, and although the religious terminology I have used and references I have made bare the most resemblance to Catholocism, it isn't necesarily that, either. I have tried to be as unspecific with these details as I could be, just so that each reader can make their own interpretation.
> 
> As is always the way with my stories, the fiction is very strongly inspired by music, and each chapter will have a song name.
> 
> You might be able to tell, with Golden Pastures and my other story, Summer Is Almost Over, the Australian summer is inspiring me to write these warm and sunny stories!

Himchan had never been on a boat before he ventured to the isle across the water. Growing up near a fishing city, it would have been expected to have the sea in his veins but he didn't come from fisherfolk. He came from modest farmers just inland, he had spent long days in fields under the beating sun until his parents had decided to sell their farm and instead move into the city, abandoning Himchan to search for work across the water through the warm summer months.

The ferry pulled into dock, and the people around him began gathering their things. It had taken nearly three hours to sail from the mainland to this island, the boat surrounded by nothing but the wide expanse of water. It felt almost infinite, like the sturdy ship was a tiny ant trying to move through a world of titans, a single wrong move could have them swallowed and gone without a trace. It left Himchan's head spinning, and as he stepped once again onto land, and felt the warm heat of the sun on his tanned skin, his heartbeat calmed for the first time since they had left port.

Summer on the island was one of the most beautiful things Himchan had ever seen. It was green and soft, it held a kind of serenity that the mainland lacked, and something in the air smelled different. Fresh, new, untainted by the pollutions of the big cities. The island was a green haven that had risen from the water, the single tall volcano standing proud in the centre. The untouched landscape was dotted with small towns, looming forests curving between them and all surrounded by the ocean.

The small town Himchan was to call home was curled up at the base of the volcano like a sleeping dog beside the heat of a fire. It was not much more than a cluster of homes surrounded by forest to the west and wide fields to the east. At the edge of the town was a stone house, two floors and the largest in the area. It stood with a garden out front and backed onto wide, golden pastures of flowering Canola. The door was big and a deep brown, the curtains drawn and Himchan hiked his single bag further up onto his shoulder before he knocked politely on the door. His shoes crunched on the gravel and sweat beaded on his skin, waiting for the door to open.

Silence stretched out for a moment until the latch slowly clicked and the door was pulled carefully open. The face of a young man, no older than nineteen, peeked out cautiously. His deep black hair fell into his chocolate eyes as he looked Himchan curiously from head to toe,

“Hello.” he said simply. The door was pulled open the rest of the way and the boy carefully stepped up onto the step with bare feet. He was dressed simply in a pair of black pants and what looked like a handmade white shirt, “You must be the new farm hand.” he said, turning his head and looking back into the house, before sending the elder man a friendly smile, “I'm Jongup.”

“Himchan.” Himchan stated his name. His own dark eyes surveyed the gentle features before him. Jongup's nose was slightly hooked, but it was delicate, and his soft, pouty lips, wide eyes and fair skin made him beautiful to look upon. It was a kind of untouched, innocent beauty Himchan had never seen before, but that reminded him of the unmarred landscape that surrounded them.

“Is it true you came from the mainland?” Jongup asked, his voice full of a childlike wonder, 

“I did. I come from inland.” Himchan said, hiking his bag again further up onto his shoulder so as not to drop it on the hard gravel ground. Jongup smiled and opened his mouth to respond when a stern voice came from behind him, 

“Jongup-ah, enough.” A man moved up, touching his son's shoulder. Himchan straightened up, 

“Sir.” he greeted, bowing deeply before standing tall again. His rusted black hair was falling into his eyes, his tanned skin shining with sweat as he looked upon his employer for the first time. Pastor Moon was tall, but not abnormally so. His hair was black and cut into a sensible style, his features stern and serious, not alike those of his son at all. Himchan didn't move, nor did his expression waver as Jongup slipped under the man's arm and disappeared into the house.

The Pastor guided Himchan to the barn at the bottom of the property, on the other side of the stretch of canola. Hay bales were stacked on the lower floor of the barn, a ladder protruding from the centre of the room and leading into a small rafter. There was a basin to wash, and a single gas lamp beside a simple palette on the floor made of layered blankets and straw. His living conditions were modest, but he needed nothing more. He was left to make himself at home.

The canola swayed in the gentle summer breeze as Jongup watched from the window by the stair. He sat on his favourite step and gazed out over the grounds, beyond the canola fields to the cows and chickens that resided at the base of the property, not far from where their land dipped into the forest. He had seen Himchan enter the barn, and then leave not long afterwards, his calloused hands brushing over the canola stems to test their strength, his almost-black hair a contrast to the sunlit gold of each individual flower. Jongup was intrigued by the new man. Each of their farm hands before had been from their town, or one neighbouring. His parents always found them through advertisements on the Church noticeboard, or through members of their congregation. Himchan, however, was new. He had come all the way from the mainland to work for them and he was unlike anyone Jongup had seen before.

“Jongup?” he heard his mother calling to him. The boy pushed himself to stand slowly, holding onto the banister and peeking down over the railing,

“Yes, Mama?” he asked,

“The ladies in town said it is to rain tonight, so you can't sleep with the cows again.” she said, standing at the base of the stairwell and smiling to her youngest child, “Now come and wash up, dear. Your brother should be here from the city soon.”

“I slept with the cows last night, Mama. I don't sleep in their pasture two nights in a row.” Jongup spoke as he walked down the stairs, his mother gently carding her fingers through his black hair and wiping something from his cheek,

“Last week you slept in the Canola the night after you slept with the cows.” she said, guiding him to where she was drawing him a bath,

“That's not the same as sleeping in the cows pasture two nights in a row, though, Mama.” he spoke gently, tilting his head to the side.

“The farm boy is sleeping in the barn while he is here.” Mama Moon tucked his hair behind his ear as he started to peel off his clothing for his bath, “After we eat, I'll send you down to bring him his food, hm?” she said with a smile. Jongup nodded, flicking his hair from his eyes.

“Okay, Mama.” he said. He washed quickly, and helped his Mama cook dinner. It didn't take long for it to be on the table, and for the three of them to eat what had been prepared. As he cleared their plates, Mama Moon made a small basket of rice and meat, as well as some left over vegetables and hooked it over her son's arm. He trudged down over the green grass around the canola field to where the barn lay. It was illuminated by small oil lamps, one by the door and two inside. He looked up at the large structure as it loomed ahead, the rafters looking dark and formidable, even though warm light shone like a comforting beacon from the door. He thought this Himchan from the mainland must be very brave to not be afraid of sleeping alone in the dark, creaky barn. 

Jongup did not have the confidence and pride his elder brothers possessed. Both of them always walked with an air of certainty, always knowing just the right way to behave, and always showing a kind of dominance as they entered the room. He himself was not like that. He was shy, and sometimes nervous. His mind was filled with dreams and fascination for the wider world, but he never left the small farm on which he lived because there he was content to explore with an independence his parents would not allow them away from their sanctuary. Himchan's arrival on their property had been a cause for great excitement in his heart, because he had never met someone who came from the mainland that held such mystery to him.

Carefully he peeked into the barn. The hay stacks were built high around the edges, like the square turrets of a fairytale castle, and the oil lamps caused their shadows to stretch far across the floor. He watched silently as Himchan emerged from behind a straw tower, his body freshly washed and glistening with water that was yet to dry. The man rose a hand to push his almost-black hair from his eyes, his bronzed skin almost glowing in the warm light. There was something unusual about the man's features. He was beautiful in a way that lacked effeminacy, and instead the regal slope of his nose and rounded purse of his lips held a masculine maturity. His hair wasn't long, just long enough to fall somewhat into his eyes whenever he looked down, which appeared to bother the man, as he continued to brush it aside with calloused fingers.

Himchan turned to face the door, leaning down to grab a cloth from on top of his bag, using it to dry the remaining droplets of water that shone from his chest and arms, his muscles toned from frequent use working his fields. He was built with the strength of a farm hand, but he was unlike the others that worked around the island.

Jongup was startled from his thoughts when Himchan's head rose and their eyes connected, his cheeks flushing as he was caught, 

“Jongup-ssi.” Himchan voiced in greeting, straightening up and surveying the shy expression on the younger's face. The boy shuffled further towards the door, swallowing hard as he held out the basket,

“Mama gave me this..” he said, but did not move forward from where he stood, shy to move closer. The man's head tilted to the side as he surveyed the boy before him, straightening his form to where he stood taller than the younger. Himchan's smile held warmth as he stepped closer, 

“Thank you, Jongup-ssi. Your mother is very kind.” he said, taking the basket that was held out to him. He did not peek inside, setting it atop one of the neighbouring bales as he carefully dried the remaining droplets of water from his shoulders and back, before dropping the cloth back to his luggage. 

“Himchan-ssi is that your bed?” Jongup asked, his lips turned into a frown, his eyes looking at the palette laying upon the dirty floor. Himchan glanced at the bed from where he stood, starting to unpack the food that had been brought to him, taking his first bite of the fragrant home-cooking.

“It is.” he responded. His eyes were curious as he witnessed the odd youngest son of his pastor host. It was obvious even to him how sensitive Jongup was. He emitted an air of kindness, and a gentleness Himchan had not seen in many years, since he had last felt the kindness of his once loving mother.

“Himchan-ssi... It does not look comfortable.” Jongup's voice was riddled with concern as he made the statement, and it caused the farm boy to smile. “My bed in the house is cozy and comfy.. You should have something cozy and comfy, too.”

“Don't you worry about me, Jongup-ssi.” Himchan replied, “Young Pastor's sons need cozy and comfy beds. Farm boys are happy to sleep in the barn.”

“But Himchan-ssi.. Aren't you scared to sleep in the barn? It's so big, and so dark.” There was something endearing, to Himchan, about the way Jongup repeated his name. As though he was testing the shape, the weight of the word upon his tongue.

“I like the barn. I like how quiet it is, and how it smells of hay, and of the Canola.” Himchan said, looking out of the door and onto the growing crop not far from where they stood. The setting sun was casting a soft glow over the golden flowers, making them look even more radiant.

“I love the Canola.” Jongup said, his eyes sliding over the delicate flowers, “It looks almost like God planted the rays of the sun in the earth, and they grow and shine like a field of precious gold.” Dark clouds were rolling in overhead, but they did nothing to smother the glow of the crop before them. Jongup turned his head and looked back at Himchan. Their eyes connected and they stood there in silence, until a roll of thunder broke them apart.

“Himchan-ssi-” Jongup started, but Himchan shook his head as he tucked the empty bowls back into the basket Jongup had brought for him.

“Please, Jongup-ssi. You don't have to speak to me with such a formal tone. I do work for your father, after all.” Himchan said with a chuckle, covering the bowls once again with the tea-towel. Jongup nodded his head,

“I shall call you Himchan-hyung, then.” the boy spoke. The farm hand did not expect such a familiar title, but he felt his lips curving into an involuntary smile.

“It will rain soon. It's best you go back to the house, so you don't get wet.” He said, holding out the basket again. Jongup nodded,

“Rest well, Himchan-hyung!” his smile was radiant as he took the basket and set off across the grass, leaving Himchan to watch after him.

That night the rain fell harder than it had since spring. The storm clouds rolled in from over the volcano and blocked out the sun, ending the drawn out sunlight of a summer evening. Himchan stood just inside the barn doors with a cigarette perched between his lips. The air was warm and muggy even as the rain washed over the land, but Himchan had hope that the morning would be fresh, and the soil would be rich. He took in a deep drag as he watched the rain fall, before flicking the butt into the mud and retiring to sleep.


	2. Heartstorm

When the sun rose the following morning, the sky was clear and the earth was cleansed. Himchan thought each golden flower shone brighter and he smiled as he brushed his fingers over the petals,

“All that rain did you good, hm?” he said softly, moving around the edge of the field as he brought feed to the two cows in the neighbouring pasture. His gaze landed on their gentle faces, noticing the water beads on their hair, before his gaze dropped to the mud that their cloven feet had sunk into. He chuckled softly and shook his head, “You're not as big fans of the rain, huh?” he asked with a smile.

“Danggeun actually really likes the rain.” a voice came from behind him. Himchan turned his head, watching as Jongup's cheerful grin greeted him,

“Danggeun?” Himchan questioned, making the boy's grin get even wider, if it were possible. 

“Her name is Danggeun.” he said, not offering any explanation for the odd choice in title. The boy had a basket hooked over his arm as he carefully jumped over the wooden fence that separated the cows from the prized canola. He gently greeted each cow with a friendly embrace that neither animal seemed to mind, “Danggeun and Sangchu. Danggeun loves Carrots, and Sangchu loves Lettuce, so I named them after their favourite things.” he said with a smile. Himchan snorted and shook his head,

“They seem to both like hay. Why didn't you call them both that?” he asked, his eyebrow quirked. Jongup simply shook his head, planting a gentle kiss on Sangchu's nose,

“Because then they would both have the same name, silly Himchan-hyung.” he answered happily.

“And that would be odd.” the man stated, his voice filled with amusement. To him naming both cows the same thing would be no stranger than naming them after vegetables.

“Exactly!” Jongup said, climbing back up onto the fence and watching both animals eating the hay they had been given, “Thank you for feeding my pretty ladies. I was going to after I collected the eggs for Mama.” The boy rose a hand to block the sun from his eyes as he peered down at Himchan.

“You shouldn't stay outside too long, Jongup-ssi.” Himchan said. The boy's skin was fair, like that of anyone who hadn't lived a life of labour. Jongup must have spent much of his life receiving an education indoors, rather than working his body in the hot sun, “Your skin will get burned by the sun.”

“Maybe I'll just get brown like you, Himchan-hyung.” Jongup smiled. Himchan noticed the few freckles that dotted over his nose like marks on a map,

“I'm a farm boy, Jongup-ssi. I should be brown.” he said with a shake of his head, “You, however, are the pastor's son. Your skin should be fair like your mother's.”

“My brother's have fair skin, too. One of them arrived in the night through the rain.” Jongup said with a smile, “That is why I am getting eggs. I promise I won't get red, Himchan-hyung.” the boy assured, dropping onto his feet in the mud, turning to the animals, “I'll be back later to spend time with you, pretty ladies.” he said, before racing off towards the chicken coup. Himchan shook his head in amusement at the odd boy. Jongup was different to anyone Himchan had met before, and he was curious of the youngest son of the Moon Pastor. 

It didn't take him long to settle into routine. Every morning he awoke with the sun and stuck himself into the labour the day held. He tended to the Canola, as well as feeding the cows and chickens. He fixed fences and rolled silage, making sure every aspect of the farm was cared for. He saw Jongup in the distance most days, the boy often spending time with the cattle, or disappearing into the forest with the family dog. He didn't seem to leave the property and venture into town, instead content to explore the limits of the land upon which he resided.

It was the afternoon of the first Saturday on the island that Himchan spent chopping wood. The summer days were long, hot and dry, and Himchan chopped the wood to pile by the house so it could dry for the inevitable winter. The rhythm of the axe hitting the block below each segment of cleaved pine was calming to Himchan. Sweat shone on his skin, two strong hands holding the steady handle of the axe, chop, chop, chop. Breathe in. Chop. Breathe out. Chop.

“Why are you chopping wood?” the voice startled him from his focused stupour. Himchan steadied the axe and turned his head, a hand lifting to wipe at his forehead, while his foot nudged the wood from where it balanced on the block to fall onto the pile beside it.

“Your Mama asked me to.” Himchan replied, setting the axe down,. Jongup's head tipped to the side and his expression was curious, “She wants the house to be prepared for next winter.”

“How do you chop wood, Himchan-hyung?” the boy asked, using the pet name he had seemingly decided on the day they had met. Himchan chuckled,

“You swing the axe, Jongup-ssi. The tool does the work, you are merely giving it the opportunity.” he said, lifting up the tool, 

“Will you teach me?” Jongup asked, stepping closer, “If I am to grow into a strong man, I should know how to chop wood, right?” he asked with a smile, causing Himchan to chuckle, shaking his head. He looked over the boy before him, seeing how he pulled up his sleeves, as though he were preparing himself for hard work, hoiking up his pants and stepping forward. Himchan couldn't help the way his eyes dropped for the briefest of moments to glance at the pale flesh of the stomach that had been exposed to him. What he saw, though, caused him pause. An ugly bruise marred Jongup's fair side, about the size of a palm. Himchan's expression fell into a frown, stepping forward,

“Jongup-” he started, but was cut off before he could continue.

“Jongup-ah.” it was a voice he did not recognise and it caused him to turn his head and look back at the steps, seeing a man he hadn't laid eyes on before. He was tall, around the same height as Himchan himself, but he was clean cut. It was obvious he had come from the city, and as he stepped down onto the grass towards them, he moved with an air of authority, and Himchan thought also of arrogance.

“Hyung!” Jongup almost stuttered, his expression uncertain, “Himchan-hyung is teaching me to chop wood!” he announced. The man touched a hand to the small of his youngest brother's back,

“You don't need to know how to chop wood, Jongup-ah.” he said, his eyes gliding distastefully over Himchan's form, “You have a farm boy for that.” he stated, spitting out the position as though it were below him.

“It's still good to know.” Jongup said, “Himchan-hyung this is my eldest Hyung, Jonghwan. Jonghwan, this is Himchan-hyung.” 

“It's a pleasure to meet you, sir.” Himchan stated, wiping his hand on his pants, before bowing as he extended it for the elder man to shake. Jonghwan looks at the hand offered to him, but does not take it,

“Yes, well. I'm glad our parents finally employed someone to take care of this place.” he stated, turning, “Come, Jongup-ah. Dinner will be ready soon. You'll need to wash up after being out here. You want to make a good impression on my fiancée, right?” 

The younger boy simply nodded his head, seemingly not even realising how patronising his elder brother had been, or choosing to maintain an air of ignorance. “I-I will have to learn another time, Himchan-hyung.” He said. Jonghwan pursed his lips as he lead his younger brother to the strong structure of their home, but Jongup looked back over his shoulder, watching Himchan for a long moment, before following his brother inside.

*

May quickly faded into June, and the height of summer approached. They hadn't seen rain since the night Himchan arrived, and the grass was slowly browning. The cows lived off the silage and hay stored in the barn, while the golden canola thrived under the beating rays of the sun.

Summer afternoons were long, and once Himchan had completed his day's tasks, he would often rest in a small clearing in the centre of the field where a rock prevented growth. Tall canola surrounded him as he lay back on the dirty ground, two fingers holding the end of his cigarette as he gazed up at the ethereal blue of the sky. Some men spoke to their Gods, some prayed to their ancestors, but Himchan would never praise anything but the majesty of the earth.

He brought the cigarette to his lips and inhaled slowly, drawing the smoke deep into his wanting lungs before he exhaled it out through his nostrils. Time seemed so different on the farm. Everything was long days, and warm nights, dry winds that brushed through the crops and stirred the grass. It was a kind of magic that Himchan had missed during the long and bitter winters that overcame the mainland and dusted every province in a white coating of powdered snow. Himchan much preferred the warmth of the sun tanning his skin as his calloused hands worked hard to make his keep.

He could hear and rustling in the crop and lifted his head, turning to watch the corner of his little haven where the pastor appeared, his lips pursed into a dissatisfied expression,

“Is it wise to smoke in the crop.” It was phrased as a question, but Himchan knew it was a statement. He licked his lips and stubbed the butt against the stone below him.

“I am very careful, Father.” he stated. Smoke slowly slid in tendrils from his nose, disappearing into the evening air.

“Cigarettes are not welcomed on my property. Jongup is young, I don't want him learning bad habits.” The man's face was worn from life and sun, causing him to age beyond his years. Himchan was sure that the responsibility of the town and the Church would weigh down on such a man over the years.

“I wouldn't dream of suggesting he pick up a cigarette, Father.” Himchan responded,

“He is impressionable, and from what I see he admires you.” Himchan felt his lip quirk at the statement. Partly from the words the Pastor spoke, but also from the tinge of contempt lingering on the man's tone. He was sure that nothing would bother this man like his child taking proclivity to a farm boy, “He speaks of you with affection. However you are here to work, do not allow him to grow attached, Himchan-ssi. His endearment to you will only result in disappointment later with your inevitable return to the mainland.” Himchan knew better than to argue, and simply dipped his head,

“As you wish, Father.” he spoke stiffly, feeling himself grow even more on guard. The pastor nodded and rubbed his hands together, 

“I have yet to see you in Church. I expect you there for tomorrow's Mass.” he stated, a command rather than an invitation. The farm boy simply bowed his head respectfully and as he watched the man walk away, he couldn't help the way his mind wandered to the bruise that had lay upon Jongup's flesh in the weeks before, and where it had come from.

He once again awoke early, rising to wash swiftly and dress in the cleanest clothes he could manage. He walked slowly into town, passing strangers he did not recognise and dipping his head to anyone he made eye contact with. It seemed as though the whole town came together for Sunday mass, as he passed many people of all ages congregating towards the large stone building just across from the town centre. Families walked together, mothers carrying their children, friends ran to find one another while colleagues shook hands and bowed politely. Everyone took their seats in the pews.

When Himchan stepped into the Church, the first thing he saw was the Pastor and his family. Father Moon was greeting all who approached him, while the three handsome sons stood by his side. He had met the two elder brothers few times on the property, Jonghwan looking to him with distaste, while Jongho looked to him with contempt. The elder of the two was a lawyer from the mainland, the younger however had taken instead to a life of the Church, following in his father's footsteps. He lived in one of the larger cities on the island to study Theology before he could take his vows and don his robes.

Then there was Jongup, standing the shortest as the youngest of the three brothers. Himchan could not prevent the smile that crept to his lips as he watched the young man greeting each passerby with a warm grin of welcoming, bowing politely to each one, while his elder brother's kept a watchful eye on him. Himchan wondered what he was destined for, sure that the Pastor and his wife had a very clear plan as they had for their previous two.

The congregation sat, and Pastor Moon began speaking. Himchan remained at the back, watching each and every movement, hearing every word. Soon, each person opened their bibles, and began to sing. He was silent as he listened to the words of worship,

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.  
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.  
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.  
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.  
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.  
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.”

When father moon rose his hand to bless his congregation, Himchan slipped through the open door back into the warmth of the summer sun. It wasn't much later that the town were standing from their pews and carefully filing from the room, some stopping by to speak to their beloved pastor. Jongup waited at the front, bowing to those who looked to him, but mostly searching the large room.

“Where is Himchan-hyung?” the boy asked, knowing he had seen the man before the Sunday worship had began. Pastor Moon looked to his youngest child,

“He left, not long after the final hymn.” he said. The man's name left a bitter taste on his tongue, unable to shield the dislike from showing on his expression, “I do not want you spending time with him, Jongup. Do you understand me?” 

Jongup's eyes turned to focus on the open door. Down the road, he spotted Himchan walking into the horizon, undoubtedly to return to the familiarity of the land he worked, “I understand your words, Papa.” the boy said, turning to look at the elder man. He did not voice anything further, because although he understood his father's words, he did not understand how anyone could despise someone so gentle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: 당근/Danggeun is Carrot in Korean and 상추/Sangchu is Lettuce.  
> Hope you liked it!


	3. All That Glitters

Himchan always loved morning the most. He rose with the sun each morn, hearing the cocks crow from the crowded coup to signal the coming of day. Heavy feet pressed into the soft green grass as he circled the canola, a tool belt on his waist and a bucket of feed in his hand. He had to venture to the bottom of the property at the edge of the forest to fix a fence post that kept the cows separate from the canola and prevented the precious crop from being devoured by the hungry beasts. In the prosperity of summer, silage was stacked by the edge of the pasture to provide for an oncoming winter, and the brown tips of the drying grass were not enough to keep the kind cows happy and fully satisfied.

Chooks clucked as Himchan tossed seed through the fence, a smouldering cigarette perched between his chapped lips as he watched the animals flutter and race to eat their morning meal. He dropped the bucket and stood back, a hand raising and two calloused fingers closing around the burning fag between his lips. He exhaled a lungful of smoke and turned his head to survey the fence he was to repair, snorting as he noticed the two cows laying together in the nearest corner of their open field, a pair of feet sticking out from between where they lay. He stepped over closer and leant his forearms against the wooden enclosure. Jongup's features were soft in sleep, his lips slightly parted as he lay clothed on a blanket. The ground was hard and dirty, but the boy looked content pressed between the two animals he obviously loved so dearly.

Sangchu released a soft sound, her head turning and her wet nose nudging into Jongup's cheek, before she shifted on the grass, her tail swishing to shoo away the irritation of flies. Tendrils of smoke rose through the air while Himchan watched, seeing how Jongup's eyes fluttered open and he smiled at the animal who disturbed his slumber. A soft, white hand lifted and stroked down her snout,

“Hello, pretty lady. Did you sleep well?” he asked, kissing her nose, before turning his head to greet Danggeun much the same way, laughing softly to himself as the beast rose with a bovine grunt to conquer the greener grass across the pasture. 

“What would your Father say if he knew you were sleeping with animals like a farm boy.” Himchan spoke, watching as Jongup's tired eyes found him and widened, pushing himself to sit up with an arm slung over Sangcu's broad back,

“My Mama and Papa know I like sleeping out here. I don't want the girls to get lonely.” he said, smiling as he lifted a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, “Besides, if I was to sleep like a farm boy I would sleep in the barn like you.” His smile was radiant, his head tilting to the side as he heard Himchan laugh and watched him take another drag of the cigarette still held between his digits,

“And we can't have that. You're the son of a pastor, not a cowhand. You deserve soft mattresses and cotton sheets, not a scratchy blanket on the dirty ground.” His tone was kind, his gaze not leaving Jongup as Sangchu moved from under Jongup's arm, her stunningly huge form rising from the ground to follow her counterpart across the grass. Jongup smiled as he pushed himself up,

“No one can become a man while being pampered, Himchan-hyung.” he said, dusting off his dirty clothing, “I am sleeping in the fields like a strong bull.” He rose his arms, flexing his bicep muscles which showed as nothing. Himchan's laughter was loud and his smile affectionate,

“You're no bull, Jongup-ssi. You're more akin to a mouse.” he said, just as the boy carefully climbed up onto the fence. He perched on the precarious post Himchan was to mend, his head tilting to the side,

“A mouse? I am not!” he said, his lips pursed into a pout, “If I'm not a bull, then at least I am a stag!”

“Not quite a stag yet.” Himchan spoke, “You are still a fawn, but I am sure one day you will grow to be just like a stag.” 

“Yes! Just like a strong stag that leads a herd.” Jongup nodded with a smile. Himchan's eyes followed the way his lips curved and a light was brought to his eyes. He had never before seen a person who's smile could make flowers grow. “I wonder if I will find a beautiful doe once I am a stag.” he said, humming at the thought, “One day I want to fall in love like Mongryong fell in love with Chunhyang at first sight. I want to feel how he did when he rode all the way across the country to find her again.” he sighed, his head filled with fairy tales of love and devotion.

“Real love is very different to fairy tale love, Jongup-ssi.” Himchan spoke with his lips secured around the butt of his nearly finished cigarette, his voice filled with an affectionate amusement. Jongup's pout once again pursed his full, soft lips, a sigh passing between them for the briefest of moments,

“One day I want to feel real love, Himchan-hyung.” he said with a decisive nod, “I want to feel how Chunhyang felt when Mongryong came to find her again, don't you?”

“I am sure I shall find love more likened to the woodcutter who falls for a Sunnyeo” He chuckles softly, 

“But, Himchan-hyung, the woodcutter makes mistakes. He isn't able to follow the Sunnyeo and he becomes a rooster.” the boy turned and looked to the coup, his eyes sad as he looks at the rooster standing with his hens, “I get sad when I hear him crowing to his lost love every morning.” he said. 

“Does being a rooster not become a farm boy?” Himchan smiled, “I would feel at home in the coup crowing to welcome the sun.” The much elder man dropped the butt of his cigarette into the dirt and pressed into it with his heel to distinguish the slow burn.

“Himchan-hyung what does it feel like to inhale the smoke?” The post he perched on was growing more unstable under his weight, 

“It burns the throat, and calms your body. It can weaken your lungs, though. Smoking is not a good practice, Jongup-ssi.” Himchan stated as he licked at his dry lips. Jongup leant forward slightly,

“May I try one? Please?” he asked, his eyes filled with the innocent curiosity that he saw the world with. Himchan just smiled and shook his head, 

“No, Jongup-ssi.” Himchan replied after less than a moment.

“But why? You enjoy smoking, maybe I will too!” 

“Your lungs are far too precious to be damaged by something as unworthy as a cigarette.” Himchan stated, 

“Unworthy?” Jongup asked, tilting his head with curiosity.

“Unworthy to touch your lips, Jongup-ssi.” Himchan responded, causing the boy's cheeks to flush like a morning rose, shifting on the post and causing the wooden pyre to dislodge from the drying soil. It tipped forward and Jongup released a sound of surprise.

The farm boy did not hesitate a moment before he was stepping forward to catch the boy in his strong arms. When the post landed with a thud, Jongup was safe against Himchan's broad chest, his eyes closed tightly, and his fingers curling around the strong biceps that held him close. Himchan lowered the boy to his feet and smiled at his shy flush. Jongup swallowed,

“M-maybe you are more like a bull, Himchan-hyung. You are strong like one.” he said softly,

“A bull to keep the little fawn from harm.”

*

Summer always passed with a speed that rivalled that of a swooping swallow. There was something on the air, the scent of carefree happiness, and of relaxation that came with the beating sun and the long days. Himchan's days in the field were always stretched, nothing telling him how many hours had passed but the sun crossing the sky, and taking with it the days of June. It was days until July when he was invited to dine at the Pastor's table in celebration of the feast of St. Peter, the first Pope. He had ill been in a position to decline such an offer, so he agreed to a time.

The sun was still high in the sky as Himchan washed and dressed, picking dirt from under his nails and making a frail attempt to flatten his hair as best he could. He stepped around the crop and made his way over the modest garden at the back of the house, stepping up to the back door and knocking. The middle of the pastor's three son's opened with a stoic expression, welcoming the farm boy into their home. Himchan removed his shoes and wiped his hands on his pants, bowing to those he saw, before he was guided to the dining room.

The home was filled with a warm chatter. He could see the Pastor's wife, and Jonghwan's fiancée in the kitchen, Jongup helping them as they prepared a delicious dinner to share between all who were there. However none of the men in the room made any attempt to speak to him as he stood where he was, taking this chance to survey the home surrounding him.

Books lined the shelves covering every subject under the sun. Law, theology, sciences, art. An Atlas sat at the very edge of a shelf, and Himchan brushed his fingers over the spine of the tome, the leather binding rough under his fingers, “My grandfather gave it to me.” Pastor Moon spoke from behind the farm boy. He turned his head and bowed deeply, pulling his hand from where it touched what he had not been given permission to lay fingers to.

“It looks beautiful, Father.” he said, stepping from the shelves. His eyes gazed over the beautifully laid table, before moving over to instead look to the Piano by the window. A hallway disappeared to the left, leading to what he assumed must be a living room and maybe a study, and a staircase broke off to the right. It was a beautiful home, and he spoke such a compliment to the man before him, “Your home is beautiful.”

“Thank you, Himchan-ssi.” the man stated as he lead himself to take a seat, “Are there many homes such as this on the mainland? I haven't been off the island for many years.” The pastor watched as Himchan's head turned, his eyes gazing back into the kitchen and watching the movements of the youngest on the property, who's lips were spread into that seemingly always present smile. 

“None like this that I have seen in a long time, Father. Even the farm houses are smaller, mostly made of wood rather than stone.” Himchan's tone was polite, his gaze breaking away from the kitchen to return to his host, “I live in the city for most of the year, sir. So I do not see many houses at all.”

It was then that Jongup stepped into the dining room and smiled, his hand made shirt hanging loose from his body, “Himchan-hyung!” he said in a cheery greeting, the farm boy needing to suppress his smile as he bowed,

“Hello, Jongup-ssi.” he stated, moving to take his own seat, across from where Jongup was seated. Food was laid out before them, and all gave their praise to Jonghwan's fiancée and the Pastor's wife for such an array of delicacies. 

“Let us join hands in thanks.” The pastor spoke, slipping his hand into his wife's, who sat to his right, and into that of his eldest son. Himchan remained silent as he took the hands of Jongho, his other slipping into that of Jonghwan's beautiful fiancée, whom Himchan had yet to hear speak a word. “Bless us, Lord, we give thanks for these gifts you have given us. We sit together this evening in celebration of Saint Peter, our first Pope who holds the keys to Heaven and as always to celebrate our saviour, Lord Jesus Christ. In nomine Padre, et fili, et spiritus sancti, Amen.” 

The affirmation was echoed by the family around the table, but Himchan's lips remained sealed. Hands broke apart, and soon the family was digging into the delicious food before them, Jongup politely reaching over the table to serve his father and mother, before he turned to Himchan to fill his plate as well. The man watched as food was lain out upon his plate when the man seated at the head of the table spoke, “You did not affirm our prayer, Himchan-ssi. Did you speak grace of your own in silent?” he asked, lifting his utensils and beginning to eat the food before him. Jonghwan's eagle eye turned to look at the stranger at their table, his tanned skin contrasting against the fair aura of the two who flanked him. Himchan straightened in his seat,

“I do not pray, Father.” he stated, his eyes meeting those that looked at him, “I work.”

“Even the hardest workers make time to pray.” the Father said, lowering his chopsticks to the table. Jonghwan's gaze was intense,

“How do you expect your crops to thrive if you do not pray for the mercy of God.” he stated, lifting a mouthful of food to his lips, his hand moving to touch the arm of his delicate fiancée beside him.

“In my line of work, sir, it is not the mercy of God I need, but the mercy of the land beneath our feet, and the skies above our heads,” Himchan spoke with sureness in his voice. Jongup straightened in his seat and released a soft breath. Never in his life had he heard a single person speak against God, especially not in their home at their table. Yet here Himchan sat, eating calmly as he defied the very belief system their family based themselves upon.

“If you do not pray for God's mercy now, you will be begging for it at the gates of St Peter.” Jongho stated, his tone firm. 

“My son, please stay calm.” Father Moon said softly, “Himchan-ssi come to my confessional tomorrow. You can confess your sins to God, and he will forgive you. He is a kind and merciful God.”

“With all due respect, Father.” Himchan spoke, setting down his chopsticks, “I will respectfully decline your offer. My place is not in a confessional, my place is in my fields. Men like me do not need the kindness or Mercy of your God, and I do not owe him my confession.” The eloquence with which he spoke was a surprise to those around the table.

“I will not have such words spoken in my house.” Father Moon said, his brows furrowed in ill suppressed rage, his hands curling around the utensils they held,

“Then I shall excuse myself.” the farm boy responded, carefully rising from the table and bowing, “The food was truly delicious, thank you.” he said. He let himself out of the room. He did not look back to see the way Jongup watched him go, his slim fingers curving together in his lap.

“Fire him!” Jongho said, his voice filled with anger, “How dare he say such things in your home!”

“I can't get rid of him now.. The harvest is too soon and you know there isn't a single farm boy on the island who isn't already working a field.” the pastor said, his right hand clenched into fist, “We have no time to get another from the mainland.”

“You can't let him stay here! Not after he spoke like that! In front of mother, in front of Jonghwan's fiancée, in front of Jongup!” Jongho's voice was filled with indignation. 

“And what then, Jongho?” the Pastor said, turning his enraged eyes to his middle son. “Let the Canola spoil? If we do not harvest it, it will go to waste. He needs to stay until autumn, or at least until the tasks are done.” He pushed himself up to stand from the table, raising a hand to silence his elder two sons, “I will not hear arguments, that is final. However Jongup,” he turned to the youngest, who had remained silent. He lifted his gaze and met his eyes to his father's, “You will not spend time with him alone, understood?”

“Papa he is not a threat to me.” Jongup said. His voice was surprisingly calm, and it caused a silence to fall over the family. He had never spoken back to his father in his life, none of the three sons had. Jongho looked to Jongup with a serious expression,

“It is not about whether or not he is a threat, Jongup.” the man said, “He is questioning God, and that is blasphemous.”

“It is within Himchan-hyung's right to reject God.” Jongup said, his eyes lifting to look to his elder brother. “Just because he is our God, does not mean he must be every one else's, too.” 

“You have been spending too much time with that farm boy. He was a bad idea the moment you sent for him.” Jongho said back, turning his eyes to his father once again and standing from where he sat. 

“Jongup you will not see him anymore.” the Pastor said, his teeth gritted together as he waited for his youngest child to obey his every word, “I have raised you three with expectations, and I will not let a common, uneducated faggot from the mainland come here and ruin everything.” Jonghwan rose a brow as he looked to his father, 

“You think he's a...?” he trailed off, and the Pastor grunted, pushing himself to stand,

“I have seen how he looks at you. I have seen how he reaches to touch you. He is sick, he is disgusting.” the man said, his hand gripping Jongup's bicep and bringing the boy to his feet as well. He winced as he was dragged up, swallowing hard as he heard the table shifting as he was forced to his feet, “You will not see him again, Moon Jongup.” 

“He is my friend.” Jongup said, his voice did not hold the same conviction it had initially, his eyes filling with a fear as he looked to his father. When Pastor Moon released his son, he brought his left hand down hard against his face. Jongup's eyes closed as his head was forced to the side. The pale skin flushed red under the burning force, blood seeping from where his lower lip split as it was struck by the metal band of a wedding ring.

“He is nothing.” Pastor Moon's voice was little more than a whisper, his eyes fiery as he approached his son. Jongup shifted where he stood, moving back until his back was pressed against a wall. He could taste blood and he released a whimper as his father moved closer, “You will Marry. By winter, I will have you wed.”

“P-Papa-” he tried, but a hand grabbed his throat, pushing him back further, 

“You will be wed, Jongup.” he grit out between clenched teeth. Spittle landed on Jongup's wounded cheek and he closed his eyes, “Or so help me God, you are not my child.”

When Jongup was released, he sunk to his knees on the floor. He did not allow himself to cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick note on the stories I have mentioned above. The story of the Woodcutter and the Sunnyeo, and the story of Chunhyang and Moryong are old Korean folk tales, or Pansori. I will link a good blog I found here which has a list of popular folktales and a summary of each of them, and it includes a summary of both the stories I mentioned.
> 
> http://blog.korea.net/?p=9745
> 
> The song for this chapter is All That Glitters by Kim Jaejoong
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, drop me a lil comment and tell me what you think! xx


	4. The Guilty Ones

For three days, Jongup did not seek out Himchan in the gardens. He would go down every morning to visit the cows in their pasture, avoiding Himchan as he tended to his crop and instead hiding away in their home with the same menial chores his mother always gave him. It was mid morning on the fourth day when his entire family left the house together. They were going to a neighbouring town on errands for Jonghwan and his Fiancée's upcoming wedding and left Jongup behind.

Almost as soon as the door closed behind them, he was heading into the garden, creeping his way around the canola and peeking from behind a tree at Himchan as he stroked down Danggeun's back, holding a handful of hay to her which she munched happily. She was a beautiful animal, and it was obvious she had taken a liking to the man working in the field. Jongup swallowed as he watched, his hand raising to touch the healing bruise on his cheek. It had faded significantly since the evening of the feast, but he knew the cut across his lower lip would still be obvious.

Himchan knew he was being watched even though Jongup was silent as a mouse. He smirked as he stepped from beside the cow to lift a bale of silage over the fence, calling out, “What would your Papa say if he knew you were out here, Little Fawn?” Jongup flushed lightly, biting his lip before he stepped out from where he hid,

“My Mama and Papa aren't here, they went to another town for all of today.” he said, chuffing his foot against the ground. He moved to lean against the fence, watching as Himchan cut the string baling the silage, moving it into the trough for the cows to feed on while the grass browned too much for them to enjoy, “I'm.. I was gonna go to the waterhole.” he said. Himchan raised a brow, 

“The waterhole?” he asked, turning to look at Sangchu as her nose nudged his hand, causing him to shake his head, “These two seem to think they are dogs rather than cows.” he said, watching as the old girl moved her head under his palm in an attempt to get affection from the man standing in their pasture.

“They just have a lot of love in their hearts.” Jongup smiled, “There is a waterhole in the forest, less than half a kilometre from the edge of the pasture.” 

“Is it wise for you to go walking through the forest alone?” Himchan asked, his hand stilling on Sangchu's snout, causing her to groan and urge for more. He turned his head and finally looked at the younger man. What he saw caused him to pause, his eyes sliding slowly over the bruise, then lingering on the sliced flesh of such a soft, plush lower lip, “Jongup..”

“Come with me.” he said, climbing under the fence and moving to wrap his arms around Sangchu's neck, nuzzling just behind her ear. He didn't respond to the elder man.

“Is.. It wise for us to venture into the forest alone?” he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow. Jongup just nodded, starting across the field towards the line of trees,

“Yes! Now come on!” the younger called back. Himchan just looked to the cattle, before following the boy across the dry grass to the fence. He hopped over it with ease,

“Why do you have cows anyway? They aren't producing milk. Does your father intend to slaughter them for beef?” he asked, following Jongup's lead into the forest. It was obvious the younger didn't want to speak of his injuries, so he would not berrate him, even as he felt a dark heat swelling within him. He felt the need to protect twisting in his belly, his fingers curling into a fist at his side before he relaxed again.

“No!” Jongup said, his expression shocked and horrified at the thought of his beautiful girls being killed, “They were twins. One mother carried them both at once, a farmer from across town believed it a miracle, and so he gifted them to us as calves. I used to feed them from a bottle until they were old enough to eat the grass.” he grabbed a stick from the trail, using it to push branches from their way, “Jongho-hyung and Jonghwan-hyung are both much older than me. They didn't often play with me when I was a child. Instead I played with Sangchu and Danggeun, and the chickens. I thought up stories and games in my mind and I would run around the garden and dream all day. Papa said it was bad, but it made me very happy.” he said.

“How much older than you are your hyungs?” Himchan asked curiously, reaching out to push a branch from his eyes,

“Jonghwan-hyung is ten years older than me, he is already an established lawyer on the mainland. Jongho-hyung is seven years older, he lives in the bigger city on the island. I think he is searching for a wife, so that he can start a parish just like Papa did.” Jongup said, nodding.

“That explains a lot.” Himchan said, jumping down from a rock with a chuckle, allowing Jongup to lead him deeper into the woods, “Just where are you taking me, Little Fawn?” he asked, Jongup smiling,

“Hyung you will see it soon” he said, reaching out and taking Himchan's hand, tugging him to move faster. Soon, their ears were filled with the sound of trickling water and they stepped into a clearing. A small stream flowed ahead, the water dancing and evanescing in the glittering sunlight as it rolled into a small pool. The water was crystal clear and looked deep as it lazily soaked up the warmth of the summer sun. Jongup turned to look at Himchan and smiled, moving to step over the mossy rocks until he made it to a large boulder with a flat surface that sloped gently towards the pool. Slowly, he lowered himself to sit, undoing his shoes and pulling his shirt over his head,

“Come on, Himchannie-hyung!” he said with a smile, standing to undo his pants. Himchan was pulling his shirt over his head as he crossed the stream to follow Jongup, kicking off his shoes just as he dropped his shirt down beside the younger's. Jongup dropped his pants and slipped easily from them, standing naked in the sunlight. 

It was then that Himchan paused, his eyes slowly gliding down the fair skin of Jongup's back. A bruise marked his upper arm, and another on the centre of his otherwise flawless back. The notches of his spine were elegant, and his skin was dotted with fading scars, and light freckles. He averted his gaze as it began to drop too low, instead busying himself in removing his remaining clothing as Jongup leapt into the water, the splashes flying onto the rocks. His head rose again to the surface and hands lifted above the water to push his raven hair from his face.

Himchan followed not a moment later, diving into the beautiful pool. It was warm from the sun, and the pebbles that gathered below their feet were smooth and rounded from the flow of the stream around them. His head lifted back into the air and his eyes opened, a sense of peace overcoming him as the two of them swam together naked in the serenity of the sun bathed forest.

Time passed at a different rate in that pond. The warmth of the sun bathing their soft flesh as the water gently lapped at their bodies, bare as the day they were born. Responsibility dissolved around them until nothing was left but the hammering of their entwined hearts. Feet left wet footprints on rock as they leapt time and time again into the water, releasing cries of excitement and carefree joy.

The sun was high in the sky when they finally pulled themselves from the water and collapsed back onto the boulder by the chuckling brook. Himchan laughed as he closed his eyes, his chest heaving with every breath, turning his head to look at Jongup beside him, his wet skin glowing in the radiant light and leaving the rest of the world breathtakingly unimportant. Leaves rustled in the trees as a soft breeze brushed over their cool skin, sending a shiver through the younger of the two, but he did not make a move to cover his bare body, instead turning his head, dark eyes meeting Himchan's, and a genuine smile spreading over his lips,

“I feel so happy here, Hyung..” he breathed softly, “I feel so free.”

“Do you often not feel free?” Himchan asked, his voice soft, as though anything louder would break the crystal surface of their time together. Jongup's head gave a minuscule shake, his eyes closing and his arms rising to stretch out above his head.

“I know what my life ahead holds, Hyung... Sometimes I know I have no freedom. I've never had freedom. Jonghwan will marry, then Jongho will follow. Both of them will marry for duty, and out of obedience, not out of love.” 

Himchan had never heard Jongup speak like this before. He carefully rolled onto his side, feeling no shame for his naked state, “You don't know that, little fawn. I am sure Jonghwan loves his fiancée.” he said, but Jongup just released a short exhale of amusement,

“He doesn't. Not truly. He loves her because he should. He loves her because he wants to.. Not because it came naturally.” he said, turning his head again to look at Himchan, “We are sons, and sons are had to be married off. My mother and father will find me a girl from the town, and they will organise everything to suit themselves. I won't love her.”

“Maybe you will find someone before then.. Someone you want to marry.” Himchan said softly, his eyes rising to follow the movements of a butterfly as it fluttered slowly over the water. 

“Have you ever been in love, Himchannie-hyung?” Jongup asked. His voice had taken on an airy tone, as though filled with wonder. The farm boy looked to his friend, the young man who he knew held so much promise for a life ahead. A part of his heart ached at the question, but he wouldn't lie. Never to Jongup.

“I was. Once.” he said, rolling onto his back once again. “It was a long time ago. I was nineteen.. not that much older than you are now.”

“What happened? If you loved her.. and you were an adult. Why didn't you marry?” Jongup asked. It was his turn to watch the elder's expression, his eyes curious. Himchan simply closed his eyes and smiled a sad smile,

“People like us could not marry.” he said, voice soft, “Our love.. Our love was a secret. A coveted, precious secret.” a lump swelled in his throat, “But we were found out and forced to break apart. They were forced to marry another, and I withdrew and entered the army.”

Jongup pushed himself to sit, his eyes sad as he looked down to Himchan, “What happened?”

“I was in the army for two years.” Himchan spoke, turning to look away, “By the time I returned, my parents had sold our farm and had moved into the city. My love... Two years married with a beautiful child, they wouldn't speak to me, neither would my parents.”

“Himchannie..” Jongup breathed, his eyes tracing over every angle of the elder's face,

“It has been five years since I was discharged. Wounds have healed.” Himchan said, sending Jongup a gentle smile,

“Do you still love them?” Jongup asked, his voice soft,

“No.” Himchan said, eyes sad, “No. I don't. I hold our memories dear, but I no longer love them.”

Silence overcame them again, Jongup's elbows resting on his knees, his feet flat against the steep edge of the boulder they perched on as he settled deep in thought. A sparrow landed on the other side of the water, dipping down to drink sweetly, his crimson red stomach bright and beautiful in the early afternoon light. It felt like an age later when Jongup spoke once more,

“Is it true.. that on the mainland there are men who love men?” Jongup asked, not turning his head. 

“Yes.” Himchan responded from where he lay, eyes focused on the drying hair of his forest companion, “What do you think of such a thing?” he asked.

Jongup's shoulders stiffened and he looked down at his feet, “The Bible says God punishes people who indulge in sins like that. Papa says that men who love men are destined to burn in hell for their sins, just as the sodomites burned for their debauched consumption.” He spoke as though he was reciting from a script, as though these had been words fed to him, drilled into his mind.

Himchan was calm as he pushed himself to sit, a hand holding himself up. His voice was gentle as he spoke, “I know what the Bible says, Little Fawn.” he said, “What do you believe.”

The silence between them was pregnant with tension and Himchan watched the muscles in Jongup's naked shoulders tense and relax, before tensing again as the boy undoubtedly battled with himself. His eyes closed tightly and his teeth grit together, before his head turned and he looked to the elder man, “I-I believe... I believe..” he began, taking a deep breath as his eyes looked down into the crystal water, “My whole life... I have learned that there is nothing as right as love. I have read the Bible that describes a God that loves, a God that has mercy. Th-that.. That..” he trailed off before he turned his head and looked at Himchan, softly quoting, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, it always trusts, it always hopes, it always perseveres. Love never fails.”

Himchan was silent as Jongup spoke from the Bible, watching as his soft, innocent eyes filled with an internal conflict the boy had never released to the world, “Little Fawn..” he spoke softly,

“There is nothing in the world as right as love. A man loving a man could never be wrong. Any love could never be wrong.” he said softly. Himchan's hand rose, brushing soft, black strands from Jongup's forehead to tuck behind his ear,

“The love a man has for another is often thought of as being exempt from such rules, Jongup-ah..” he said in a tender voice. 

“I don't want to worship a God who would punish love.” the words were little more than a whisper. Slowly, his bare body shifted across the stone, his side pressing against Himchan's, the elder man leaning into him, his forehead pressing against Jongup's temple, his eyes closed, as his hand rose to brush the pad of a thumb across the soft and injured lip. “You love men, don't you, Himchan?”

“I do.” Himchan spoke with a steady voice, being so very gentle as he touched the injuries on such a beautiful face,

“That is why you did not pray at the table, and why you do not come to Church with us.” he stated softly, a hand bracing just above Himchan's knee as their naked bodies slowly entwined,

“It is.” the elder affirmed, his hand slipping into soft, black strands.

“Himchan..” Jongup whispered, his breath fanning out against the elder man's shoulder, 

“My sweet, Little Fawn..” Himchan spoke, inhaling the warm scent of his younger companion,

“H-Himchan... What if.. What if I love men, too?” The tone of fear in Jongup's voice sent an ache through Himchan's very being, 

“Then I will protect you, Little Fawn. From God himself, if I have to.” he whispered. Foreheads pressed together and noses brushed, hands grasping for purchase on soft skin. Jongup looked down at how his fair, delicate hands contrasted to the warm bronze of Himchan's tanned skin, the support of a body against his own, strong arms wrapped around him tight. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears.

Himchan's chapped lips found Jongup's soft ones. The kiss was sweet, gentle. It was not a kiss of lust or desire, but one of trust and promise, and as Himchan's tongue pressed forward he found that he had never before tasted something so sweet.  
*

The press of lips to lips was something Jongup had never expected to love as much as he did. Himchan tasted like something he couldn't quite describe. It was a flavour of spice and sweat and the earth, it was something that held a maturity and knowledge that the boy himself had yet to understand, but he was learning. Himchan had kissed Jongup by the waterhole until the sun was close to setting. He had pressed his lips to Jongup's injured cheek, whispering promises of apology and protection, because whether or not the boy was willing to speak, Himchan knew. He knew where that had come from, he knew who was hurting such a kind, gentle boy. 

He knew, also, that it was because of him.

When they had parted by the edge of the pasture it was with a promise of meeting again where they could be together, even if such promises were a risk of danger. Himchan never wanted a hand to mark Jongup's skin again.

It was nearing the middle of July that saw them together in the clearing they had long since made theirs. They met between the canola stems, the golden flowers masking their bodies and concealing them from view as they lay together upon the ground, Himchan's form pressed close against Jongup's side, his hand sliding over soft skin, his hot mouth claiming Jongup's own in a way it only had few times before. 

“H-Hyung..” Jongup murmured, pulling back for a moment. He swallowed and looked up at the man above him. His lip had healed, as had his cheek, leaving his skin once again soft and beautifully untainted, “I promised my Mama I would go into town with her.”

“Mmm.. You should get going then.” Himchan murmured as he brushed his lips down the elegant slope of Jongup's neck, inhaling the familiar scent of sweat and grass that lingered on the boy's skin. Jongup laughed breathlessly, his cheeks flushing and his fingers splaying across Himchan's back, 

“You don't mean that, Hyung..” he said, swallowing hard. 

“Little Fawn, if I had it my way, you would never be away from my arms.” He said, pulling back and pushing himself to sit. He looked at the way Jongup's cheeks were tinted in a flush, his lips rosy from being kissed and his black hair having tumbled into his eyes, “But the day is not on our side, you're being stolen away from me.” he said, leaning in once again and kissing the boy's mouth. He hummed, before releasing a groan, “You're tongue is like a drug, I think I am addicted.”

Jongup's laugh was like music as he pushed himself up, as well, straightening his shirt, “You are the one who should be working, Himchannie-hyung.” he said, biting into his lip, but the farm boy simply smiled,

“How could I work, when something so beautiful is on my mind, hm?” He hummed, his nose nuzzling against Jongup's own, feeling the warmth radiating from the younger's skin. Something in Himchan's tone had Jongup laying back on the stone once again, his lips curving into a small smile,

“I never want this summer to end.” he murmured, his fingers sliding down Himchan's neck and curling into his shirt. His grip wasn't tight, but he felt as though he needed to hold on. As though Himchan would disappear if he didn't hold on. A pit was in Himchan's stomach as he heard the words, looking to his younger love.

He looked beautiful laying there. His skin was a fair contrast against the gold and green of the canola that surrounded them, with the early afternoon sun washing over him both, “I don't want it to end, either.” He admitted, a hand moving to pull Jongup's shirt down, covering the inch of exposed skin of his stomach. The boy opened his eyes, looking to the man before him and smiling sadly, 

“What is winter like on the mainland, Himchannie-hyung?” he asked. His fingers were feather light as they traced the veins slowly up Himchan's forearm to his elbow, then over his bicep until they reached the rolled sleeves of his dirty shirt.

“Cold.” The response was soft, “Lonely.” 

“Is there snow?” Jongup asked. His fingers now lay on Himchan's upper arm, loving the warmth of the skin.

“There is. Lots of it.” Calloused fingers curled around Jongup's own and pulled them from skin. Jongup just watched as Himchan lifted his hand and slowly kissed the tips of each one of his digits, then his palm.

“Maybe one day I will have to visit you there..” the boy murmured, his hand moving to brush over Himchan's cheek.

“I would like that, my little fawn.” Himchan spoke, leaning down and sealing their lips together once again. Jongup pushed himself to carefully sit, deepening the kiss in a tender manner, before he whispered,

“I have to go..” both of them knew they were drawing out their time together, and that it was a risk if the others on the property began to ask questions. 

Wind rustled through the crop as the pair divided. Himchan stood back and allowed the younger to straighten his clothes and fix his hair, sharing a single kiss before Jongup was disappearing between the canola stems, and leaving his sight. He watched him go until nothing was visible but an endless field of gold and it was then that he pushed himself from where he sat to return to the labour he was employed to do.

It was early evening when the Pastor found him. Himchan was standing between Danggeun and Sangchu, bent at the middle. He was using the end of his hammer to carefully clean drying soil from between the creature's cloven toes. Rusted-black hair was falling into his eyes but he didn't mind. The gentleness of the animals gave him a feeling of care and contentment, and he worked harder for them than he usually would for livestock that did not need his constant care. He had convinced himself long ago that it wasn't just because he had seen the unconditional love Jongup had for the two kind beasts, but with every passing moment beside them, he was starting to disbelieve his own reasoning.

The sight of the boy's face when Himchan had first washed them down, cleaning the mud and dirt from their hides had been priceless. The boy had gasped and jumped the fence, praising both his beautiful girls' beauty, before kissing them both on the nose and laughing as both had released happy groans and nuzzled into him in search for more.

The memory had a smile lingering on Himchan's lips as his employer came to lean against the fence, “Harvest is approaching.” he said, causing Himchan's head to raise. The man carefully lowered Danggeun's foot to the dirt, straightening himself up and hooking his hammer back onto the tool belt he wore,

“It is, Sir.” he stated simply, patting the cow's side as she started to make a sound of annoyance. He had quickly learned that if there was one thing the cows loved as much as they loved Jongup – it was attention.

“Himchan...” the man said, watching as the man turned his head to stroke down the cow's back, scatching behind her ear gently a moment later and causing her to groan again happily and inch closer to him. “Your time on the island is brief, and it is nearing a close.”

“Every summer must end, Sir.” Himchan responded briefly. His stance was rigid and he felt on edge, uncertainty filling him.

“When my sons were born, Himchan, they were born into a plan. A plan I have designed for them, a plan that God has designed for them.” he stated, his hands folding at his front, “Earlier in the Summer, I saw that Jongup looked to you with affection. Some excitement, something new from the Mainland.” The man took pause to think over his words for a moment, “I have seen how he looks at you. I know that you linger on his mind. A simple farm boy, causing my son to be so distracted, unfocused.”

Himchan's jaw clenched, his hand still on Danggun's back as she urged him to continue giving her affection. However his gaze did not break from his employer, 

“Jongup will be the man we planned for him to be, Himchan.” his tone had a certainty to it that had Himchan's skin crawling, “Your days here are limited. Every sunset means we are closer to ridding ourselves of you and your disgusting nature. You are destined for a very deep ring of hell, Himchan, and you will not take my son with you. If I see you speaking to him once again, there will be consequence.”

The memory of cuts and bruises marring Jongup's skin were at the forefront of Himchan's mind. He knew what this man was willing to do, whether it were out of discipline or hatred, “As you have said, sir. My time on the island is drawing to an end. When the harvest ends, I will be returning to the mainland, and whatever choice your son will have to make is his own.” Himchan refused to confirm the relationship he had with the son of the Pastor, 

“You misunderstand me, Himchan.” the man's voice was chillingly calm as he rose his hands to grip the fence that kept him apart from Himchan, his eyes stony and cold, “Jongup will be who I decide he shall be, he will live how I decide he shall live. I will make sure that every moment of thought he has of you is translated into a bruise on his skin, that every wish he has of leaving here is forced out of him until he obeys everything I say.” the man spoke, “He is my son, Himchan, and if I see you speaking to him, touching him, then the discipline he shall face will make him never want to lay eyes upon you again, do you understand?”

Himchan swallowed thickly, his heart thumping so loud he could swear the Pastor would be able to hear it from where he stood, “I understand.” Such a threat did not fall on deaf ears, and Himchan was left to stare after the man who promised to bring such agony onto the one thing he wished so desperately to protect. Father Moon dipped his head, turned, and left.

It took almost an hour for Himchan to remember how to breathe.

*

He was by the barn when he knew he had to do it. Himchan had managed to avoid Jongup for the following day. His throat was tight, and his heart ached but the thought of a single bruise blossoming under Jongup's flawless skin made him feel sick. He remembered when his love had been discovered all those years ago, when one of the letters he had written the man he loved was discovered. He remembered when his beautiful lover had seen him on the street with a black eye and a broken arm had avoided his eye and pass quickly, he remembered the agony he felt at the knowledge that it was his love that had brought such suffering on a kind and gentle person. He would not allow it to happen again, not to Jongup.

The Pastor's son was heading down to visit the cows when he spotted Himchan filling a bucket of feed for the hungry chooks. He felt his lips curve into a cheerful smile as he stepped closer to the farm hand, seeing how he needed to tilt his head to keep his hair from his eyes as he went about his tasks, “Maybe one day you should let me cut your hair, Himchan-hyung.” 

Himchan tensed at the voice, his grip tightening on the bucket in his hand and his eyes closing. His mind flashed with images of Jongup's bruised skin that saturday soon after they met, then again of his injured body by the waterhole, “My hair is fine, Jongup-ssi.” he responded, straightening up.

“It looks like it really bothers you, Hyung.” The boy said with a grin, reaching out to touch the strands, but Himchan flinched away. The movement caused Jongup to pause, his happy expression faltering for a moment, “Himchan-hyung..?” he asked,

“I said it's fine, Jongup-ssi.” his tone was gruff and even a little rude. Jongup could feel his stomach drop, his heart starting to hurt in his chest as he looked to the elder man who just days before had been touching him with such love, kissing him.

“H-Hyung I don't.. Are you okay?” he asked, his voice meek as his hands curled into the hem of his own shirt. He felt as though his throat was tightening as he watched Himchan turn away from him, speaking in such a dismissive tone,

“I'm busy, Jongup-ssi. I would appreciate it if I wasn't distracted.” he said, setting the feed aside and starting to fill a metal pale with water.

“B-But.. I don't understand. You said.. You said to me-” Jongup tried, but he was cut off, 

“I am busy. Harvest starts soon and I don't have time to be entertaining you while I work.” Himchan all but snapped, his head turning slightly, “I think it would be best if you stopped visiting me.”

Jongup swallowed and took a step back. He felt the first hot tears rolling down over the tops of his cheeks, his lower lip trembling and he nodded slowly, “I...” he tried, his brows furrowing for just a moment before he sucked in a trembling breath, “I'm sorry.” 

Himchan stood still as he listened to the foot steps carrying over the gravel path back towards the house. It wasn't until he heard the shutting of the back door that he relaxed and allowed the ache in his chest to overcome him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am currently so exhausted, and even though I have read over this chapter many times I am so tired right now that I have probably missed something, so forgive me for any mistakes!  
> This chapter is long, but it is one I have been very excited for, and I hope you enjoyed reading it! 
> 
> The song for this chapter is The Guilty Ones from the musical Spring Awakening.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, please drop me a lil comment to let me know what you think! xx


	5. I'm Fine Thank You

In early August every year, the small town hosted a harvest festival. Hay was stacked around the town square, and a bonfire was lit. Everyone came from the neighbouring farms to visit the celebrations, sharing around food and drink as the festivities built. It was the hardest time of year, and all needed a celebration before the coming exhaustion of the harvest, and the imminent dismay of coming winter chill.

 

The pastor gathered his family, and all of them ventured into the town together, the two elder brothers, along with Jonghwan's fiancée breaking off in search of their childhood friends from the smaller neighbouring towns of the parish. Jongup, on the other hand, stayed beside his mother. He had few friends in town after being kept so close to the property for his life, and since he had last seen Himchan he had barely spoken and had little interest or desire to be social.

 

He stood beside his mother as Pastor Moon stood before the town and lead a prayer for his parish, asking God for his mercy and guidance for the Harvest, praying for good crop to be yielded from across their lands. The fire was set alight, once all those around had echoed in their prayer of Amen, and the crackling of the flames sent a cheer through those surrounding him.

 

“Jongup-ah!” his father called as he re-approached after giving his sermon. Jongup's gaze rose and he looked to his father, watching as he lead three of the village folk over towards him. He recognised them from church, they were the Park family from just outside of the town. Mr. Park farmed fruit in the lush soil on the slope of the volcano, while his wife was one of the instructors in the small school that sat near the centre of their cozy town, Jongup remembered attending that school alongside the Park's daughter. He looked to them for a moment, before bowing at a polite degree, remaining close beside his mother, “You remember the Park family, right, son?”

 

“I do.” he confirmed simply, his gaze flickering to the beautiful girl who stood beside the portly farmer. He knew she was the same age as him, her dark hair and fair features being much more mature and beautiful since he last saw her.

 

“They have come into town for the festival, with their daughter Yeonha. You knew Yeonha when you were children, do you remember?” It had been a long time since Jongup had heard such a joyful tone in his father's voice, and it left him shifting uncomfortably on his feet, nodding his head,

 

“I remember.” he said. He swallowed, knowing what was coming after,

 

“Yeonha has grown into such a beautiful woman, has she not? I was thinking you should walk with her, Jongup-ah. Spend the evening by her side. It will be nice for you and her to reconnect after these years.” the man spoke, his hand pressing to Jongup's back, forcing him to take a step forward,

 

“P-Papa-” Jongup tried, but was cut off,

 

“You would do well to show her around, Jongup.” his voice was firmer, his smile tightening. Jongup swallowed and turned to the girl who he could barely remember and nodded his head. He stepped forward,

 

“Would you like to go and look at the fire, Yeonha-ssi?” He said, voice taught. As he stepped from where he stood, the girl at his side, he could hear their parents speaking behind him.

 

“They would make for a good couple. You know I do not have any sons, Jongup could take over the farm once I retire, we make enough to employ plenty of physical help. All he would need to do-” the Pastor cut off the excited farmer,

 

“We have many years to worry about those details. For now, we should focus on planning their ceremonies.” He stated, causing Jongup's heart to ache. He could feel his life slipping away from his reach, knowing that he had no control anymore.

 

The hay bale was uncomfortable where he sat, his side pressed against that of the girl he had once known, not listening as she spoke of seemingly anything that was on her mind. Jongup's eyes flickered around the town, his eyes focusing on the familiar faces of the members of his congregation. His throat once again felt tight, wondering if he would ever leave this little town, wondering if he would ever make it onto the mainland. He wondered if he was destined to marry this girl, to grow old on the island and to never experience any of the magic this world had to offer.

 

It was he looked around the familiar faces, that his eyes landed on one that sent pain through his very soul. Himchan stood on the other side of the square, his arms folded over his chest and he looked beyond the fire to instead watch Jongup where he sat beside Yeonha. Their eyes met and the intensity of such a gaze sent a chill through Jongup's body, feeling his heart ache with such a want to go to the man who had brought forth things he had never felt before. He opened his mouth, his fingers curling into his palm, about to speak to Yeonha, about to tell her that he had to go, about to tell her that he could never marry her, that he already had someone who he loved. He felt the words rolling up his throat and laying upon his tongue, waiting to be expelled with an exhale of breath, but before he could Himchan broke the contact, and instead turned. He slipped between the people standing behind him and disappeared away into the twilight, back towards the property that lay on the edge of town.

 

As Jongup stared into the fire before him, he wondered if he would ever stop loving Himchan.

 

*

 

The mornings were beginning to get colder, and the stretched out afternoons began to shorten. Sunset came earlier each evening, and as the Harvest season progressed it became harder and harder to get a day's work done in the hours of sunlight.

 

August rolled over him like flowing water, and Himchan spent every moment slicing and rolling the bales of Canola, conquering the golden pastures day by day, square metre by square metre. The barn where he slept began to fill with tied bundles of the most coveted yield of the land the Pastor owned, knowing the flowers would soon be sold to a factory to be pressed into oil. He stood in his field, scythe in hand as he slashed at the base of the plants, leather gloves coating his hands to protect them from the harsh stems as he gathered them and tied them together.

 

“Himchan-ssi.” the Pastor spoke from the edge of the field, metres from where Himchan stood. He shifted his grip on the hilt of the scythe and bowed his head to the elder man.

 

“Sir.” he said, slinging his tool to his belt as he bent down and tied the bundle of stems together, tossing it onto a pile behind him.

 

“It is unfortunate we don't have a tractor to aide you in your work.” the man spoke, leaning against the wooden post of the fence that surrounded his field, but Himchan simply smiled politely,

 

“What use would I be if a machine did my work for me. If I cut each plant by hand, then I do not run the risk of damaging the flowers with the wheels of a tractor.” he stated, lifting another bale into his arms and coming closer, leaning it against the fence, “But you haven't come here to apologise, Father.” Himchan spoke with a polite tone, but nothing near any kind of warmth or affection. There was no point in pretending he felt anything but contempt for the Pastor.

 

“No.” the man spoke, “I have sent for seed for the next crop. Once you have harvested the flowers, and uprooted the cut plants, I expect you to prime the soil and plant the seed for next season.”

 

“I would expect nothing less than that being my duty, sir.” the farm boy responded, using the back of his hand to wipe sweat from his brow, pushing back his dark hair. It had gotten much longer over the course of the Summer, long enough for him to need to tie it back with a scrap of string.

 

“How long will it take you?” the man asked, his eyes serious with an unspoken concern. Himchan knew the worries on the man's tongue and stepped back, raising his scythe and gripping nearby stems, slicing the flowers from the plant.

 

“Do not worry, Father.” he spoke as he re-approached, “I will be done by the time the strait freezes. I will be back on the mainland by the end of autumn.” he said, holding the golden flowers out to the man, “For your dinner table, Sir.”

 

Father Moon took the flowers, nodding his head in minimal thanks. It was no secret, the dislike the master had for his servant, but both knew they were indispensable to the other and hence the relationship must continue. Himchan turned back to his work, but was stopped, “One last thing, Himchan-ssi.”

 

“Sir?” Himchan asked, turning his head, but not facing him.

 

“Has Jongup come to see you?”

 

“I have not spoken to your son since I sat at your dining table, Sir.” he lied easily.

 

“So you would not have heard.” the man spoke, “His mother and I have set sights on a girl we wish for him to Marry.”

 

“Is he not a little young to Marry, Father?” Himchan responded after only a minuscule hesitation.

 

“It is not for you to decide whether he is ready for marriage.” the pastor's voice was firm, challenging.

 

“Nor is it for him, it seems.” Himchan said, turning around to bow, “If you will excuse me, Father. I have crop to harvest.”

 

The scowl on the Pastor's lips spread into a satisfied smile as he heard the blade of the scythe meeting the stems of crop harsher than it had before. The words he had spoken to Himchan in threat had been taken into account, and he knew that a divide had been built between his youngest child and the farm hand, and he was satisfied at his success. His head turned and he looked back at Himchan. The farmboy's arms flexed as he brought his tool down on the crop, his expression set hard in his work. He would never allow such a person to speak to his son again.

 

The sun had long set by the time Himchan allowed himself back into the barn. His clothes were filthy with earth and mud, his hands scratched from the unforgiving harshness of the stems and string he had to grip, even if for most of his work, he wore protective gloves. A cigarette was lifted to his lips and ignited, a hand sliding through his filthy hair as he stripped from his working attire and instead re-dressed in something cleaner. He was unable to properly clean his clothes, but something was far better than nothing. He crossed the room and stood by the open door, the cool breeze meeting his skin and causing goose bumps to rise. The early autumn air smelled of clean promise and changing seasons, and he knew that it would be very soon that the barn would be uncomfortably cold for sleeping in.

 

Turning his head, he looked back at the bed he had constructed himself from hay and old blankets found in the barn, knowing he would need to make do with minimal protection once weather finally came. Though he knew all too well that his time on the property was limited, and soon his job there would be done. He thought of the life he had left behind on the mainland, of the work in factories or construction that would provide for him throughout the winter, until he was able to work the land again.

 

Himchan turned back and looked at the flickering light of the oil lamp by the door, but his eyes instead caught sight of a lantern further down the property, where he knew the cows slept. A small smile crept onto his lips and he shook his head, sure that Jongup was once again sleeping between the cows under the stars and a part of him hoped the boy would forget about him. Himchan did not deem himself worthy of such affections, nor would he ever believe himself worth the pain Jongup would sustain if their love was discovered. He pushed himself from the door frame once his cigarette was little more than a smouldering butt and blew out the light, before retiring to his modest palette on the barn floor.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading, drop me a comment and let me know what you thought!  
> The title song for this chapter is I'm Fine Thank You by Ladies Code.
> 
> xx


	6. Gold Dust

Rumbling thunder awoke him in the night, his eyes fluttering open as lighting ignited the sky, casting eerie shadows upon the barn floor. Himchan made a soft sound and pushed himself to sit, looking out onto the land where heavy rain beat down upon dry earth, rolling over the cracked dirt and resurrecting it once again. Thunder crashed again and he pushed himself to stand, his hand rubbing at his arms as cold wind whipped through the open door, the canola stacked at the walls rustling as it was disturbed. His strong hand curled around the handle of the barn door, he rarely bothered closing it as sleeping in the open barely bothered him but he knew he had to protect the crop and hay from the water spilling into the opening. Muscles ached as he began the task of pulling closed the door when his sleep fogged mind suddenly was thrust into awareness and his dark eyes flicked down to the bottom of the property, where the cows pasture dipped into the forest.

 

“Jongup.” he said. He shoved his feet into his shoes with haste and ignited the lamp by the door to serve him as a beacon, before he ran out into the storm without a moment of hesitation. Feet landed heavily with each hasted step, his hand lifting to shield his eyes as he tried to see through the rain, barely able to make out more than a few metres before him. He almost slipped as he rounded the canola field and made it down to beside the chicken coup, hearing the birds clucking to one another as they took cover. “Jongup!” he called, his hands meeting with the rough wood of the fence, shaking his head to whip his drenched hair from his eyes,

 

“H-Himchan?” Jongup's soft voice asked, a bovine groan following. Himchan was quick to jump over the fence, his landing causing mud to splash around him as he found the two kind cows laying by the edge of the field, Jongup's body pressed between them for the only warmth and protection he could get from the storm,

 

“Little Fawn..” Himchan said, his hands finding the boy's slim form and bringing him into his arms. Jongup's skin was cold, far colder than it should have been and Himchan was swift to scoop him into his arms, carefully bringing him over the fence and back towards the waiting dryness of the barn. He guided the boy to hide his face in his shoulder, to protect his soft skin from the sting of the heavy drops. He could already feel him shivering in his hold, and he spoke softly, “I have you, you're safe... I have you.” the words he murmured into Jongup's hair had the boy relaxing in his arms.

 

Jongup was soaked through to the bone, his clothing covered in mud and his hair sticking to his skin. Himchan was quick to bring him into the barn and lay his soaking body out on the dry palette on the floor. His own dark eyes were filled with a serious concern as he carefully slid the freezing shirt from the boy's body and lay it out on the hay to dry, “I-I'm s-so c-cold..” Jongup whimpered, his teeth chattering and his muscles tensing, arms wrapping around his now naked torso in an attempt to heat himself.

 

“Let me get these wet clothes off of you.” Himchan responded, carefully helping the boy from his clothing, seeing how his fair skin looked almost blue in the warm wash of light cast by the single oil lamp. The farm boy rose again and gripped the handle of the door, finally succeeding to close it, preventing the cool chill and spattering water to touch the angel who trembled on his bed.

 

“H-Himchan I-I missed you, I--” Jongup said, his voice cracking and his eyes closing tightly. Himchan looked down to the shivering boy, before he pulled himself back. He was quick to pull his shirt over his head, kicking his soaked pants carelessly to the side and laying himself down upon the palette beside Jongup, bringing the boy against his skin and wrapping the blanket around their forms,

 

“Shhh.. Shhh.. I'll warm you up, Little Fawn. I'm here now.” he said, his nose brushing the boy's brow, a hand rising to cup the back of his hair and brush through the strands. Water slid from each tendril of soaked curl, sliding between Himchan's fingers and along his wrist.

 

“It was s-so dark.. I c-couldn't s-see to get back to the h-house.” Jongup spoke against his chest. Himchan exhaled softly and pressed his lips against the boy's forehead in a tender kiss,

 

“You're safe with me.” He said. Silence washed over them, nothing but their breaths making sound other than the continuous thrum of rain upon the roof of the barn, and the distant rolls of passing thunder.

 

“I know I-I am, Himchan-h-hyung..” Jongup spoke finally, after what felt like a long stretch of time, “Y-you are strong like a bull, Himchan.” His head shifted, tilting up to look at the elder man, dark eyes peering at him through long lashes.

 

Himchan's eyes met Jongup's and his fingers stilled in his hair, “A strong bull to keep his Little Fawn from harm.” he spoke. Jongup looked to the elder man for what felt like an age before he shifted once again and sealed their lips, claiming Himchan's mouth in a kiss, one that was shy and innocent but in want for more. Himchan's hand carefully lifted to cup the younger's cheek, his lips carefully parting and his tongue flicking forward in its eagerness to taste the mouth of the precious younger man in his arms. Jongup felt himself melt into the warmth of skin pressed against skin, the familiar sensation of Himchan's tongue licking into his mouth and making his heart race.

 

Jongup's fingertips pressed into Himchan's tanned skin, and carefully, the elder man guiding the younger onto his back, blanketing his body over the smaller one, his arms holding his weight from hurting the body below him. Calloused hands ran over soft skin, dull nails pressing into flesh as Himchan desperately attempted to get his body as close to Jongup's as he could, wanting every inch of them to be pressed flush as they got lost in the warmth of each other's skin.

 

He pulled back and looked down at the way Jongup's lips were almost swollen from the ferocity of the kiss, his nose brushing along the lower of the pair, before he slipped lower to trail his wanting mouth along Jongup's strong jawline, feeling the boy tremble below him, “Little Fawn..” Himchan murmured, his lips connecting to skin just behind his ear as he felt a slim leg rise and carefully hook around the elder man's hip, consequently bringing their bodies flush. The farm boy barely thought about what he was doing before he was leaving a soft, pink mark on the boy's fair throat, before raising a hand and brushing the pad of his thumb over the mark, “You have the most beautiful neck..” Himchan spoke, his lips brushing over the pulse he found, before his tongue flicked out to taste the rain damp skin.

 

“Hyung..” the younger breathed. Jongup carefully pushed himself up, his head rising just enough for his mouth to meet Himchan's in a needing kiss, wanting so desperately for the man to just never let him go. The sinful taste of Himchan's lips were a forbidden fruit, and now he had tasted, he couldn't allow himself to cease his indulgence. Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed across the sky but neither remembered the raging storm as their panted breaths took the place of spoken word.

 

Jongup released a sound of need as Himchan pulled from his lips, looking down at him, seeing the way his rain damp skin was flushed, his eyes clouded as though he were in a daze. Himchan's lips once again claimed Jongup's throat, before sliding lover, sliding over his elegant collarbone, then down to his breast, his tongue leaving a trail along his breastbone, hot breath fanning over the cool skin. He watched his own hand sliding down over Jongup's hip and thigh, drinking in every inch of Jongup's other-worldly beauty and untouched innocence. He took in the way his chest heaved with panted breaths, the way his nipples swelled in the cool air that the rain brought. He took in the twitches of Jongup's stomach, and the way arousal was beginning to swell between his creamy thighs.

 

“Oh, Little Fawn...” Himchan breathed, his head sinking lower, leaving a trail of tongue and teeth over his flat stomach, before his nose was brushing over the soft, dark curls that lay at the base of his young lover's erection. Jongup gasped out Himchan's name like a prayer as warm breath touched his already aching length, his trembling fingers finding their way into his rusted-black hair, swallowing as he watched Himchan mouth gently against the base.

 

“Himchan!” he gasped, his spine arching off the palette, his toes curling as he had never before felt such a sensation. Such a sight of erotic beauty had Himchan breathless, his eyes fluttering as he moved back over his precious lover's body.

 

Himchan blindly reached out to his side, grabbing at the trinkets and knick-knacks that lay beside his bed. He found a small hand held oil lamp, one that had not been set alight. He carefully dipped his fingers into the oil as his tongue delved into the sweet mouth of his gentle lover, his other hand parting Jongup's thighs carefully. He had little doubt that the younger had no experience, and he knew that he would never touch Jongup with a hand that lacked gentle care.

 

“Do you trust me?” Himchan whispered as his mouth parter from Jongup's. The younger man whimpered, wishing for the sweet pressure to return to his body, already missing the feeling of Himchan's toned body and sinful lips against him. He opened his dark eyes and felt his lips part, never having seen anyone look upon him with such intensity,

 

“I trust you, Himchan..” he breathed, hands sliding to grip strong biceps, “I trust you.” Himchan brought his hand from the oil and carefully brushed his fingertips down Jongup's stomach, brushing them over the soft curls once again. He did not tease for long and instead dipping his fingers down further to rub them slowly against the virgin rim that lay between his legs. Himchan heard the way Jongup's breath hitched at the sensation, his fingers tightening their grip on his biceps, before he closed his eyes and willed himself to relax. A sure finger gently pressed into the waiting body,

 

“H-Himchan..” Jongup stuttered, the uncomfortable intrusion making him shift with uncertainty.

 

“Shhh... Shh..” Himchan breathed, kissing soothing lines along his love's jaw, before he brushed their lips again, “Relax.. Let me care for you, my little fawn.” He spoke in a voice so tender, his finger gently beginning to pump into the younger's body, being as gentle as he could. His own length was straining between his legs, but he cared little for his own wellbeing, not when he had such a beautiful creature laying below him.

 

Carefully, a second finger nudged in beside the first and once again Jongup was whimpering, but this time it was followed by a languid arch of a graceful spine, toes curling in surprise as discomfort began to subside and morph into a divine pleasure. Whimpers began to fade into soft gasps of pleasure with each press of the skilled fingers into his body, a third digit added with such a tender care that Jongup had never felt.

 

He could feel his body growing hotter as his hips slowly began to roll down onto the digits that penetrated him. Fingertips brushed over something inside of him that caused a cry of ecstasy to be torn from his throat, his eyes almost rolling back into his head as his legs trembled at the unfamiliar sensation of such pleasure. Never before had Jongup felt such a physical manifestation of love, and he could not prevent himself from slipping into it and submitting his heart, body and soul to everything Himchan could give.

 

The elder man was careful as he looked down at the boy below him, his fingers spreading apart for one moment, before he slipped them free. The sound of protest Jongup released was sweet and innocent, his tongue sliding along his lower lip before he hummed and cooed to the younger, their noses brushing together, “How do you feel?” even with the storm raging outside, he felt as though if he uttered speech any louder than a whisper, he would crack the fragile air between them as they shared such incredible intimacy for the first time,

 

“I feel warm inside..” Jongup breathed, his toes curling into the straw below them.

 

“I will make you feel warmer..” Himchan's voice held such a tender love, his hand reaching back to the same lamp beside them. He once again dipped his fingers into the viscous liquid, but instead this time he reached for his own length. He made sure to coat himself as much as he could, before blanketing his form once more over that of the boy beneath him. He guided his tip to the prepared entrance, staying still for a moment as his nose nudged the very tip of Jongup's. Strong legs wrapped themselves around his middle, and before Himchan could utter a word, Jongup's head was raising to once again claim the mouth above him as his.

 

As Himchan pressed into the body of his exquisite love, his mouth tasted of Jongup's tongue. For the first time, their love was sealed by the meeting of their flesh in the most intimate and sinful way. Strong hips rocked forward, and the barn was ignited with the fire of love that burned between them with little care of the judgement of any God. Through the dark, in the minimal glow of the still burning lamp by the door, the sweat on Himchan's back shone like gold dust, their bodies moulding together as one in a sensual dance of passion and love.

 

Jongup's body arched from the floor and his lips parted as he was overwhelmed by the divinity of natural pleasure, feeling hands, skin, lips and the brush of tender fingertips as he was finally overwhelmed. He felt ecstasy like that of Saint Theresa as a thousand suns exploded behind his eyelids and he was filled with Himchan's seed, his own spilling between their naked bodies.

 

The bliss of orgasm felt as though constellations were colliding within his body as he fell limp below the strong man who he knew would always protect him. His eyes were closed and his lips parting as he panted, feeling the way Himchan's arms struggled to keep himself upright above the spent younger and the man was gentle as he carefully rolled back his hips to withdraw himself and lay down on his back, he too panting in the cool air.

 

Jongup's head turned to the side, his dark eyes blinking momentarily before he ever so gently shifted himself closer to Himchan.

 

“Come here..” Himchan murmured with an amused tone in his voice as he guided the younger to rest his head to his left breast, a hand lifting to stroke through the soft raven locks. He noticed as he touched the hair that it was already almost dry, and he was relieved that the boy would be kept warm.

 

“My heart..” Jongup started, his voice soft, “My heart is beating so fast in my chest, Himchannie, and my arms feel weak. It feels like there are butterflies fluttering in my stomach.” Himchan smiled at the words, unable to stop himself from pressing slow kisses over the crown of Jongup's head, “Is this how it feels to be in love?”

 

“Does it feel as good as you hoped?”

 

“It feels better. It feels warm.” Jongup's eyes rose to look at the elder man, “It feels safe.”

 

“Love is warm, Little Fawn.” An arm rose to tuck behind his head, his other still secure around the younger man against his chest. Their tones were hushed in the warmth of their bliss,

 

“Do you love me back, Himchannie?” The sentence held such an incredible innocence and Himchan felt as though his breath had been knocked from his chest.

 

“I do love you back, Little Fawn.” he said, “I do.” It was then that he sealed their mouths once again in a kiss that held so much intimacy. A flush rose up on Jongup's visage, his eyes fluttering before he pulled back and tucked his face away into Himchan's naked shoulder.

 

“Your kisses are nice, but they make me shy.” he claimed, causing another chuckle to rumble from the chest he was held to,

 

“I have been kissing you all night, my Love.” Himchan responded, gathering the teen even closer to his naked form, not wanting an inch of his skin to go untouched, or unloved.

 

“But now they are making me shy, Himchannie. Your lips are the first lips to ever kiss mine.” Jongup whispered, peeking shyly up at the elder man.

 

“Why do you say my name like that?” Himchan asked in a playful tone, “Just because I love you, and you love me does not mean I am no longer your Hyung.” he splayed his fingers over the small of Jongup's back, before guiding the boy's leg to hitch over his thighs, entwining their bodies further.

 

“Because you're not just my Hyung, Himchannie. Now you are my Himchannie, and I am your Little Fawn.” Jongup said.

 

“No, Jonguppie. Now, I am your love, and you are mine.” Himchan whispered gently. The silence stretched finally between them as the storm finally passed. The air smelled of rain, and renewal, and they both knew that when the sun rose again on the late summer morning, the fields would be greener than they had been in weeks. Jongup was drifting off under the soothing rhythm of fingers over his skin. Himchan's chest was warm beneath his head, and the steady beat of his heart gave a new meaning to the word home.

 

“Are you lonely in the barn, Himchannie-hyung?” Jongup murmured, his voice riddled with sleep.

 

“Sometimes, my love.” the man didn't still his fingers as he soothed the younger to sleep, “If you lie with me until light, I will never feel lonely again. Not if I can imagine how you feel in my arms.”

 

“Do I feel nice.. in your arms?” the words were barely audible by then.

 

“You feel perfect, my sweet Little Fawn.” Jongup was asleep by the time Himchan finished speaking. His lips curved into a smile and a soft kiss was pressed to the sleeping boy's forehead, “I love you.” he murmured, before closing his eyes and following into slumber.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Leave me a lil comment and let me know how you found it.  
> This is the second last chapter (cries) and the final should be out in a few days.
> 
> The song for the title is Gold Dust by Shim Changmin. That song (the english version live) was actually what gave me the original inspiration for this whole fic, and when I started it it was originally called 'Gold Dust' instead of Golden Pastures. I would really recommend listening to it, it is so so absolutely beautiful.
> 
> Thanks again for reading, I'll meet you in the next chapter!!
> 
> xx


	7. Insa

Himchan had awoken early. The warmth of Jongup against his side filled him with a kind of serenity he had not experienced in a long time. The warm sensation of holding that whom he loved making his heart sing with a much missed joy.

 

“Himchannie..” Jongup murmured as he pushed himself in closer against Himchan's side. The man smiled and kissed his forehead, then nuzzled into his hair,

 

“Dawn is here, my love.” he spoke. He knew of their danger, he knew that their bare skin pressed flushed was asking for nothing but trouble, and the thought of discovery terrified him above all else.

 

“Mmm I don't like dawn..” Jongup murmured as his eyes fluttered open, and Himchan could have sworn they were even bigger than before. He brushed his fingers back through the soft hair he could feel himself adoring, then brushed the pad of his thumb over Jongup's kiss swollen lips, “Dawn means I have to leave here.”

 

“We don't have to be apart for long, Little Fawn.” Himchan said with a tender smile, watching as Jongup carefully pushed himself to sit. His back was so very fair and flawless, he couldn't help raising his hand to gently brush his knuckles over the soft skin, watching as goosebumps rose under the touch.

 

“My father is forcing me to visit a farm on the side of the volcano.” he said, his eyes dropping down to where his fingers twisted together in his lap, “He wants me to marry a girl who lives there.” Himchan carefully pushed himself up, his lips trailing feather light kisses along the back of Jongup's sloped shoulders,  
  


“I know.” he breathed, nuzzling his nose into the skin. The taste of Jongup's skin was sweet on his tongue. He tasted like rain, sweat and something unique that Himchan knew must be the taste of _him_. Jongup sighed and turned his head, looking back at the elder man. He tipped his head and sealed their lips together in a loving kiss, before he finally stood and reached for his clothing. He only pulled up his pants before Himchan was behind him, pulling him back against his chest, “He forbid me to see you. To speak to you, to look at you. He told me he would hurt you if I came near you again.”

 

Jongup nodded, after the night before when Himchan had touched him, _loved_ him, he knew the man had not intended to part them. He closed his eyes where he stood, feeling Himchan's hands sliding slowly, carefully over his skin before he, too pulled away. He grabbed his own pants and shirt, tugging them on and sliding his hand through his rusted-black hair, “Take me with you.”

 

“What?” Himchan asked, his eyes lifting and his hands stilling as he eyed his love with curiosity. Jongup stood holding his shirt, not having yet pulled it over his head. His gaze was intense, but also anxious as he worried his lower lip with his teeth.

 

“Himchan, I love you.. After the harvest take me with you.” He breathed. They stepped close once again, Himchan's hand brushing over Jongup's cheek and they kissed. Jongup returned the pressure, before he carefully pulled back, kneeling down again on the simple palette that lay on the floor. Himchan followed because he could never deny his love a thing.

 

*

 

The sky was clear of clouds once again when the sun rose, but the earth still smelled of the storm. Such natural ferocity could not be forgotten overnight, and the mud that coated the land, and the new green shoots of grass showed their gratitude. Pastor Moon had moved into his study early in the morning, not long after the beginning of dawn and he had given his first prayer of the day. He had papers, contracts, details of Jongup's future life to iron out before he would rouse his son from his bed and take him to the farm on the side of the volcano that would one day be his.

 

A gentle rap at the door had his gaze lifting, “Come.” he said simply and his wife entered, her fair hands twisting together and her neat brow furrowed with anxiety, “What is the matter?”

 

“M-my baby..” she murmured, her lower lip trembling, “H-He went out to be with the cows last night, he's not in his bed. My baby Jonguppie, he's not in his bed.” She said, her eyes filled with fear and worry.

 

“Miyoung-ah...” The man said, moving to stand before her and gently rubbing her arms. “Do not fret, my love. We shall find the boy. Jonghwan, Jongho!” He called, footsteps approaching from down the hall,

 

“Taejong..” the woman spoke softly, her eyes sliding over the papers that were spread out on the desk behind her husband, “Taejong please don't take my baby from me. Not yet, please..” She murmured, feeling her husband tighten his grip on her arms as the two eldest brothers stood in the doorway of the room. They couldn't see how she winced at the tightness of the hold, and her husband did not respond to her,

 

“Jongup did not come into the house last night. We have to find him.” the Pastor said. Jongho nodded and pulled away, but Jonghwan lingered in the door,

 

“Mama?” he said, and she turned her head and gave him a weary smile,

 

“I will help you search.” she said, carefully slipping from her husband's hold, and following them out into the mud.

 

Voices rose as they searched their property, heavy feet leaving deep footprints in the sloshing mud. The cows roamed lazily across their rejuvenated pasture, and the half harvested crop of canola hung heavy under the weight of the rain.

 

It did not take them long before they were turning to the refuge of the barn, their forms moving swiftly over the property, calling out familiar names,

 

“Jongup-ah!” Jonghwan yelled,

 

“My little baby where are you!” his mother followed, her voice filled with barely concealed fear. The pastor himself remained silent, stopping at the closed door of the barn. His two sons pulled the door open together, and warm morning sun bathed the room.

 

Between the maze of bailed hay sat two forms. Himchan's hand was on Jongup's cheek, his other arm wrapped tight around his shirtless torso. The youngest son of the Pastor curled in closer to Himchan's hold as the door was opened and they were exposed. They knew they could not stop it.

 

“J-Jongup?” his mother's voice, filled with fear, caused him to shift, his head turning as he was frozen where he sat. Himchan's arms curled tighter around Jongup's form, his calloused hands pressing into his back.

 

The fury that overcame Father Moon consumed him like a burning fire. It engulfed him in his entirety, obliterating his insides as he witnessed his most hated and repulsed sin before his very eyes. His body lurched forward and he grabbed the hair of his youngest son, wrenching him back from where he was being held so tightly to Himchan's chest.

 

“You may be destined to burn in hell, sodomite, but you will not bring my son to burn with you.” the fire that flickered in his words sent a chill through Himchan's form. Before the farm boy could move, the pastor was moving forward and wrenching the boy from his grip, causing him to startle and cry out, his small body being dragged harshly over the floor. Himchan shifted to his feet, but before he could move forward, the elder son's of the cruel pastor were grabbing his arms, and forcing him onto his knees. He couldn't move, he couldn't reach for the younger. He couldn't protect him. “I told you.. I told you what I would do if I saw you touch him again! He will suffer, you will both suffer!”

 

“H-Himchannie-” Jongup gasped, whimpering as he was shoved back down onto the floor.

 

“Shut up!” the pastor yelled, his strong hand sinking into his son's hair, pulling his head up, “You will not be such a sinner! You will not be a faggot!”

 

“Let him go!” Himchan yelled, struggling against the arms that restrained him, but he was met with a hard hand across his face. His mouth tasted like the metallic tinge of blood, his eyes opening again to look at Jongup as he was held half naked on the floor, his knees scratching on the harsh, gravel floor. He had began to cry, Himchan wasn't sure when, but his cheeks were wet and his eyes were closed, the boy trying to free himself but it only made his father tighten his grip on his hair.

 

“You will never see this wretched farm hand again, do you hear me, Jongup?” the pastor spat, but Jongup resisted, gasping as his head was harshly pulled backwards, “Do you hear me?” the man repeated. Jongup shook his head,

 

“N-no! I l-love him!” Jongup said, crying out as his father shoved him back onto the floor. A sound like a growl rumbled from Himchan's throat as he struggled to get forward again. He watched as the pastor reached behind him and grabbed for a stem of canola, pulling it from the bunch that toppled over onto the dirty floor. As he brought the harsh stem down onto Jongup's back, Himchan did not look away, but he did not allow the pained scream torn from his lover's throat to affect him.

 

“I will make you stop loving him! I will make you wish he had never set foot on this island!” the pastor yelled, whipping his son again.

 

“Stop! Let him go!” Himchan yelled once more. The sound of the pastor's wife beginning to cry echoed alongside the pained cries Jongup released with every lashing across his back, the boy whimpering and begging, pleading his father to stop beating his innocent flesh.

 

“H-Himchan..” Jongup gasped as the stem was brought down over his skin again, his face wet from tears. The farm boy swallowed hard before with once final wrench of his body, he freed himself from his human restraints. He cared little of himself as he rushed forward, his bare feet smacking on the rough floor.

 

“Run, my Fawn.. Run.” he said, shoving the pastor back from where he held his son, the man releasing his black hair. He leapt to his feet and reached out, grabbing his shirt from where he had dropped it against a hay bale and he ran. He ran into the sticky mud outside the barn, and over the grass until his bare feet were meeting the harsh sticks and moss of the forest floor. He could hear Himchan's heavy footsteps behind him in a steady rhythm and he could not stop. Neither man looked back as the shouts of their names got softer until nothing was audible but their twin panted breaths and beating hearts.

 

 

*

 

The lights of land loomed ahead, sea wind tousled his hair, strong arms wrapped around him tight. As the boat rocked beneath their bare feet, the sight of land ahead filled Himchan with a hopeful warmth.

 

“Himchannie, is that really the mainland?” Jongup's voice was soft, tired. The elder man turned his head and pressed a tender kiss to the boy's temple,

 

“It is, my Little Fawn.” he responded. He didn't spare a glance to the people who watched them with inquisitive eyes, simply making sure to hold his love gently to his chest.

 

“I'm afraid,” Jongup confessed.

 

“Don't be afraid.” Himchan murmured. Jongup's head turns to him and he looks upon his elder love. He's looking at Himchan as though he doesn't quite believe he is real. Himchan can sympathise, he thinks the same thing every time he sees Jongup. “Everything is scary right now, Jonguppie... But I will keep you safe. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again.”

 

“Because you're strong, like a bull.” Jongup murmured, his body curling into Himchan's stronger form just as the boat came to dock, clinging on to the certainty that Himchan made him feel.

 

“A bull to keep his Little Fawn from harm.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for sticking with my little story for the past few weeks. Words cannot express how much it means to me to see so many people giving me such incredible support and encouragement.
> 
> I started writing Golden Pastures as a fun little passtime, since I had the idea and I expected ten or so people to read it, and I would have been immensely pleased with that. The response I received (on A03, AFF and Tumblr) was absolutely amazing.
> 
> Some special thanks I want to give is to all my amazing friends who helped me when I got stuck, and who gave me encouragement and told me it wasn't a stupid idea. I also want to give a giant thanks and shout out to the amazing Kathy, admin of the tumblr [him-up](http://him-up.tumblr.com) for sharing the work and saying such incredibly kind words to me to make me feel so so excited about sharing it. I also want to thank everyone who reblogged the promo posts and left the sweetest little hashtags at the bottom about how they loved the work (not even gonna lie I read every single one of them and thank you so so much for your kindness.)
> 
> Last but not least I want to thank everyone who commented/gave Kudos/Upvoted/Shared, because that is the kind of encouragement that made me so eager to share more chapters. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the final instalment of the work! The song for this chapter is Insa by DBSK. It is a stunning song, and I would encourage giving it a listen (and the lyrics a read!)
> 
> xx Matilde


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